


Beyond the Pale

by ArabellaFaith



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 08:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10330019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/pseuds/ArabellaFaith
Summary: They say opposites attract... can these two find love in the afterlife?





	

**Author's Note:**

> All canon characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for their time and work on this story!

The cavalier was staring at her. The fact that the suit of armor didn't actually have  _ eyes _ was beside the point. It was staring, which apart from being terribly rude, was also beginning to make her uncomfortable. This wasn't the first time she'd felt as if she was being watched. In fact, over the last month, it had started to happen more and more frequently.

Plucking up her courage, she glided over. “I know you're staring at me. I really must ask that you desist at once.” For a moment, there was no movement. Then, the armored glove lifted to about where a nose would be beneath the helmet, stuck its thumb there, and wiggled its fingers in a taunt. “How uncouth!” she gasped, one hand fluttering to her chest.  The sound of a raspberry being blown came from within the helmet. With an indignant huff, she turned and began gliding away.  _ Really _ , she thought,  _ such crass behavior _ . But a small corner of her mouth lifted in the slightest hint of a smile..

* * *

 

 

It had taken him a while to adjust to his new life. Or  _ afterlife _ , as the case was. He'd always felt himself up for anything, ready to embrace change and roll with the punches, but this transition had been difficult, even for him. It felt as if suddenly, everything he'd ever known about himself was no longer true. In this form, he had no wand, so he could practice no magic. He wasn't surrounded by his loved ones as he had been all his life. Even his hair had lost its distinct color, and without it he felt as though he'd lost his identity as well.

The castle, which had seemed like home away from home for so long, had become a thing of mystery to him. Instead of diving in head first as he had with every venture before, this time, he hung back and spent many days simply observing. And in the months since the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd learned several things.

The first was that Hogwarts was a microcosm within a microcosm. There was the school, which was the epicenter of learning in wizarding Britain; the social hub for hundreds of teenagers, the launching block into the rest of their lives. And there was Hogwarts, the home for a plethora of other beings. The professors who lived there year round, the portraits going about their oil and acrylic lives upon the canvas, more creatures than could be named – house elves, threshals, centaurs, unicorns, merpeople – and then there were the ghosts. Those beings whose life forces were tied to the school eternally, unable to move on. They all lived together and yet in their own worlds, coexisting like parallel universes.

The second thing he learned was that despite the change he'd undergone, despite what he'd lost, he was still the same man. His core, what made him  _ him _ , was all there, just as it had always been. And with that realization finally came the eager yearning to explore the new world he found himself in. He embraced it with childish delight. Though he never let himself be actually seen, his presence was felt through the school in dozens of smiles and fits of laughter. In good-natured pranks that cropped up at just the right moment to make someone's day. It worked on almost everyone. Everyone except  _ her. _

Perhaps the most important thing he'd learned was that even though he wouldn't wish it on anyone, being a ghost was  _ wicked _ . What he lost in magic he made up for in new abilities. The pang of being apart from his family was balanced by the never ending thrum of activity and life in the castle. So while he understood there were bittersweet moments, he simply couldn't comprehend spending decades or centuries of this existence in a state of taciturn melancholy.

Which was why he'd made it his personal mission to make her smile.

His first attempts had been abysmal failures. Setting off an electric shock that made her pop and fizzle as she glided by only produced a frown. Tricking the first year Ravenclaws into believing that rubbing her skirt would bring them luck only made her huff with annoyance and kindly set the children straight. And following her around in a suit of armor seemed to only irritate her. His antics had never failed to impress before, and he was even more determined to have an impact on her.

She went into the library one afternoon as was her habit, and picked up the book she'd been reading intermittently for a week. When she flipped to the page she'd left off on, a blue static glow rose up from the parchment, formed into a flower, and spun in the air. Fascinated, she reached out a finger to touch the apparition. The petals curled together like a mouth and nipped at her finger before exploding into a thousand flecks of light. She laughed in delight and swatted at the light particles as they tickled her nose.

“I know you're there,” she called softly. “If you don't show your face soon, I'm going to think you don't have one.”

“We can't have that, now can we,” came a voice from beside her. She jumped a little as a silvery figure emerged from the tapestry on the wall. “It's a rather good face, after all. Shame to waste it.”

“Finally! You're older than I thought you would be from all your childish behavior.”

He grinned. “Young at heart, always. You were younger than I thought, too, you know. I never really paid attention to it when I was at school.”

“Few students do. Some of the Ravenclaws, of course, but they're such a studious lot.”

“How do you know I wasn't a Ravenclaw?”

“With that cheeky demeanor? I'd bet my left slipper you were a Gryffindor.”

“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. “And now that we know our respective houses, I think we should formally introduce ourselves, don't you? Why don't you tell me your name?”

“Surely you know it, since you were a student here. The Grey Lady is known by reputation to most, if not by sight.”

“Ah, but that's not really your name, is it? Not any more than Simon's real name is Fat Friar.”

“In life,” she paused for a moment, her hand raising to flutter at her throat as it did when she was agitated, “I was called Helena.”

“That's a beautiful name, Helena. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Fred.”

* * *

 

 

Anyone who saw them would have thought them an odd pair. They were spared the speculation, though, as Fred had yet to make his identity known among the witches and wizards in the castle. It wasn't that he didn't want his family to know where he was. He wanted to see them again, to give his mother a ghostly hug, to amaze his father with his new tricks, to sit and talk with his brother for hours on end. But he also knew that they needed to grieve. He had died, and it wasn't fair to let them cling to the idea of him as a member of their world still. When some time had passed, and they'd made their peace with it, he would let them know.

He was fairly certain that when George found out, he was going to try to kill him again for keeping such a monumental secret.

Those that  _ did _ see them together rarely commented on it. Once, when they'd been strolling through the Forbidden Forest, they'd come upon a pair of centaurs. They had gazed enigmatically at Fred and Helena, then began a soliloquy about how fate had come full circle and the position of Venus had foretold these events long ago. Fred created a static ball that made their tails stand straight up and laughed until they galloped away with scowls at the indignity of it. Helena tittered behind her hand.

The other ghosts had even less to say about their friendship. Simon, the Fat Friar, always smiled and waved politely. Nick would chatter on amiably but never mentioned their companionship. The Bloody Baron glowered at them and flew away any time they happened to be near. Peeves was the only one who made a scene, calling Helena a cradle robber (despite the fact that she'd actually been younger than Fred when she'd died) and cackling at his own joke.

“How  _ do _ you measure years as a ghost?” Fred asked after he'd sent Peeves on his way with a stinging ball of light that chased the poltergeist down the hall.

“Well, there are those, like Sir Nicholas, who begin counting at the date of their deaths. He considers himself to be five hundred and six. Simon found the idea of death day parties morbid, so he still sees his age at forty three.”

“What about you, Helena? How old do you feel you are?”

“I was nineteen when I died... but I suppose I feel ageless. I've continued my education here, progressed my knowledge exponentially, but I don't feel as though I've ever really moved forward. I've been stagnating for nearly a millennium. It is-” she paused, the melancholy look he'd seen on her so often before they'd become friends stealing over her delicate features. “Weary, that is my age, I suppose.” She flashed him a sad smile that made Fred's chest constrict.

“How can you think such a thing?” he asked quietly. “There is so much joy to be found in this existence.”

“Your spirit still has the breath of life in it. I don't think I ever had that much exuberance even while I was alive.”

“Maybe it's time you gained some, then.”

Helena laughed a little. “I could tell you a hundred different ways this sentiment has been expressed across the centuries, but I believe the current phrase is something about not teaching old canines new feats.”

“Well, then, I guess it's a good thing you're a clever and beautiful witch, and not a dog. Because I'm going to teach you every trick I know.” He took her hand, the zing of aether meeting aether racing up their arms, and tugged her gently along with him.

Outside the castle, he had her shift into a ball of light and then did the same. He began urging her up towards the midday sun, faster and faster. They flew past the treetops, higher than the uppermost tower of the castle, above the birds until the air grew thin and cold. Helena began to slow down, afraid of going further, but Fred kept her going, higher and higher until they seemed beyond the sky itself, shooting through darkness.

Then suddenly they were plunging back down to earth, faster than a bolt of lightning and twice as bright. They were electricity, shooting back towards their source, dancing along the airwaves and plunging through the fabric of the world. Almost before it had even begun, they were tumbling into the Black Lake, in their spectral forms once again.

Helena broke from the surface of the water, splashing and sputtering needlessly. Fred floated beside her laughing, his eyes dancing with joy and exhilaration. “You... you  _ cad _ !” She squawked at him. When he only laughed harder, she shoved a wave at him. It crested against his body, making him waver as the water sloshed through him.

“Admit it,” he glided closer to her and grinned. “You loved it.”

“That was the most  _ terrifying _ ,  _ ludicrous _ , and  _ mad _ thing I have ever done in all my long years.” She glowered at him, crossing her arms over her chest and turning up her nose.

“And?”

“And I loved every moment of it.”

“I knew it!” Fred pulled her into his arms and danced a jig with her on the surface of the water, his head thrown back in laughter as they spun and dipped. Helena couldn't help but be infected with his joy, and soon she too was giggling. From the castle, they looked like glittering streaks of silver skipping along the lake.

* * *

 

 

There was one aspect of being a ghost that Fred had yet to explore. The idea of ghost sex seemed too strange to even consider. And yet, as he and Helena sat holding hands atop the astronomy tower, that's exactly what he did.  _ I mean, are there... fluids involved? _ he wondered.  _ How would that even work? _

It  _ should _ be possible. They had enough physical presence to pick things up and 'feel' them, with enough concentration. Other ghosts were even easier, needing only a slight push of will for the aether to solidify into something that could be held. Or stroked. Or  _ sucked... _

“What was your biggest regret in dying?”

Helena's question jolted Fred from his vaguely pornographic thoughts and he felt the tips of his ears flush silver. Really, was he a hormone riddled teenager all over again?  _ Focus, Freddie-boy, you haven't even kissed her yet _ .

“Uh, I don't really know.” He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “The pain it caused my family, probably.”

“No personal regrets? Things you wished you'd have done, or done differently?” Helena peered at him curiously, a glittering lank of her hair slipping over her shoulder. Fred tucked it back behind her ear, heart thudding when she leaned into the contact a little.

“Not really. I mean, I would have liked to have lived of course. I wanted to keep running the shop with George, maybe have a family of red-headed ankle biters one day... but I lived every day as fully as possible. I don't regret any of that.”

Helena bit her lip and looked down at where their hands were joined. “I wish I'd lived more like you.”

“You don't talk about your lifetime much.”

“No.”

“You could, though. If you wanted.”

“I don't think you would have liked me much while I was alive, Fred.”

“Now that can't be true. I'm sure you were a delightful and prim young lady. I would have loved teasing you.”

“I was haughty-”

“What,  _ you _ ? No!” Fred's faux shock made her huff indignantly and swat his shoulder.

“Yes, you scoundrel. Haughty. And conceited and demanding. I thought myself above the rest of the world, even my own mother. No one lived up to my lofty standards, so I never bothered to try and find friendship or love. I was... unfeeling, even to those who had deigned to give me their affection.” She shivered. “It was my undoing, in the end.”

“You mean your death.” All the playfulness and teasing had gone from the conversation. Fred had never seen Helena look so withdrawn. She was nearly translucent. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Helena.”

“It's alright. It has been hundreds of years since it happened. I've had time to come to terms with it. And besides, it’s not as though he can hurt me any longer.”

“He?”

“The man I scorned. His name was Ivan, though you know him as the Bloody Baron.”

“The Bl-” Fred drew back, shocked. “The Bloody Baron? He's the one who murdered you?”

Helena nodded. “I drove him into a rage with my rejection. My mother had sent him to find me, knowing how he felt about me. I rebuffed him and tried to flee. He caught me.”

“Merlin... I-” Fred's hands gripped into fists. “I'll kill the bastard.”

“Considering he already killed himself almost a thousand years ago, I'm not sure you'll be able to do much damage, Fred.”

“Oh, yeah.” He flopped back against the roof and let out a sigh. “Alright, then, I'll haunt him for eternity. Did you know pink pixie powder sticks to aether? Let's see how he likes being  _ pink _ for the next decade. That ought to take him down a peg.”

Helena tittered behind her hand. “I'd like to think I've grown enough to be beyond petty revenge,” she admonished. Fred cocked a brow at her. “But I  _ might _ know where there's a pixie hollow on the grounds.”

“There's my girl,” Fred declared proudly. “Let's go.” They rose and were about to float down off the tower when Fred caught her hand and pulled them to a stop. “One question first.”

“Oh?”

“When you say you never bothered with love, do you mean you never...” he trailed off, making a vague gesture.

“A lady would never kiss and tell.”

“Well I meant a little more than kissing, but sure, let's go with that.” Fred waggled his eyebrows outrageously. Helena flushed silver.

“Y-you, sir, are no gentleman!”

“Never claimed to be, love.”

“Well if you must know, the answer is  _ no _ .”

“No you never...” He made the gesture again. Helena sputtered and slapped his hands.

“No I’ve never kissed a man, you rake.”

“Ah, well in that case, I'd be remiss in my self appointed duty of teaching you all the fun this existence has to offer if I didn't do this.” He tugged her gently back until Helena fell into his arms. Her hands rose to his shoulders, bracing as if she might push him away. Instead, she relaxed against his chest and looked up at him with wide grey eyes.

“Do what?” she asked a little breathlessly. Fred tipped her chin up and slanted his head to the side. Their lips were so close that light had begun arcing between them.

“I'm going to kiss you now, Helena.”

“Y-you are-” it wasn't a question or a statement. She hadn't moved to pull away.

“Now would be the time to disappear or knee me in the spectral bollocks if you don't want me to.”

“ _ Tace, et da mihi osculum, _ ” she whispered, then pressed her lips to his. Electricity sparked bright and sharp, sending tingles dancing over their skin and heat coiling inside them. Fred's hand rose to stroke through Helena's hair, cradling the back of her head and deepening the kiss. His tongue traced hers lightly. She heard a soft sigh of pleasure and realized it had been her own. Her, proper and ladylike Helena. She'd told a man to shut up and kiss her, and now she was curling her toes in bliss at the feel of it. Excitement thrilled through her.

This was something brand new. A thousand years in this plane of existence and still there were new things to experience. This was what Fred brought to her world. He'd ripped down the dark curtains of her complacency and now there was blinding light flooding in. Her hands threaded through his hair and pulled him closer, closer still until their aether began to fuse in a searing ecstasy.

Startled by the intensity of it, Fred pulled back. His chest was heaving even though he needed no air to breathe. Helena was still pressed against him, her eyes wide and glossy, lips dark and slick and slightly parted. For a moment, Fred wanted nothing more than to  _ devour _ her. He shook his head, trying to bring his errant thoughts to heel. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and suddenly the silence seemed oppressive. Fred cleared his throat, knowing his color was high and his voice was weak.

“That was... well that was something.”

“That was  _ amazing _ ,” Helena laughed. “Is it like that in life, too?”

“Er, not quite. This was a bit more... potent.”

“I wonder what would happen if we-” she stopped, flushed the brightest silver Fred had ever seen her, and made the same gesture with her hand that he'd made earlier. Fred's eyes popped wide.

“It's a little too soon to wonder about that, isn't? I mean, going from first kiss to-” he waved his hand, “is a bit quick, yeah?”

“Are you, the king of impulsiveness, suggesting we exercise prudence?”

“It's just, you shouldn't rush into anything. It's not like there's any hurry.”

“Fred Gideon Weasley, I have never rushed into anything. In a thousand years, not once have I hurried. I think it's about time that I allowed myself to be a little reckless. Don't you?”

Fred waited a beat, as if making sure she didn't suddenly yell,  _ just kidding! _ When her face remained earnest, a slow smile curled his lips. “You're exactly right, love. It's long overdue.”

* * *

 

 

The Room of Requirement had helpfully provided them a place to go, which was good since ghosts didn't actually have beds in the castle. Fred thought the room might know a little  _ too _ much about his intentions, however, since it had provided a wide, low couch, a comfortable looking king sized bed, and a ridiculously high stack of pillows. For a moment he wondered if a castle could be a peeping tom, then decided he didn't mind either way.

They kissed again, tongues tangling as they moved towards the bed until they stumbled down onto it. Fred was ready to take his time slowly undressing Helena – honestly, the laces at the back of her bodice were a bit intimidating – but then she just closed her eyes and vanished them.

“Woah...” Fred pulled back so that he could look at her. His eyes were wide, the black of his pupils nearly eclipsing the silver of his irises. He stared. And stared. Helena began to fidget under his gaze.

“...Fred?”

“Er, sorry. I just-” he shook his head and swallowed thickly. “You're  _ breathtaking _ .” The silver flush in her cheeks spread down her chest.

“Thank you,” she murmured somewhat shyly. “You could join me?”

“Right! Yeah, hold on, I haven't learned that trick yet.” He closed his eyes and felt a soft stir of air. When he opened them again, all his clothes were gone except for his socks. “Bollocks. Let me try that again.” Helena giggled as he closed his eyes once more. The socks blinked out of existence, and then, he was as naked as she.

Helena's eyes roved over his wiry body, the platinum lines of his broad shoulders, the black and grey smattering of hair down his chest and stomach, the – she licked her lips nervously and let her gaze dip lower –  _ oh my _ , there was that. She didn't have anything to compare it to, but it seemed rather grand, overall. She said as much, and Fred burst out laughing.

“Well, I'm glad you think so. Wouldn't do to be unimpressive right out of the gate.”

“Quite the opposite, in fact. I'd actually like to take my time exploring every inch of you, if you don't mind. But... later.”

“By all means,” Fred agreed shamelessly, “I leave myself utterly at your disposal. Later. For now-” he blanketed her body with his own and trailed his lips down her neck. She turned her head to give him better access, her fingers trailing over the muscles of his shoulders as chills spread in the wake of his every kiss. She started to squirm when he reached her hips, moaned when he grazed his teeth against her inner thigh, then threw her head back and cried out in pleasure at the touch of his tongue against her core. He laved her, softly at first then with increasing intensity until there were literal sparks flying between them. The pressure built and built and then she felt as if she was flying apart, sensation the likes of which she'd never known overtaking her entirely.

When she opened her eyes once more, Fred was looking at her in awe. Self consciousness sneaked up and tapped her on the shoulder. Had she done something strange? Oh, Merlin what if she'd made an unflattering sound? “What?” she finally dared to ask.

“That was beautiful. You were... radiant. You  _ glowed _ .”

“Really?”

“Really. I want to see it again.” He climbed up her body with a wolfish glint in his eye and kissed her hard. Helena blushed when she thought of where his lips had just been, and felt a surge of heat between her legs. What she'd already experienced had been wonderful, but it seemed like there was more yet to discover. An ache began to build inside her, her body throbbing with need for more. When Fred fitted the tip of his cock against her, she lifted her hips eagerly. His length sank slowly inside, waves of incredible pleasure radiating out from where they were joined. Just when she thought the sensation could not get any better, he pulled back and then drove forward again. Her back arched and she called his name, helpless against the tide of euphoria her body was being pulled along in.

Fred's cock jumped, the sound of his name on Helena's lips in combination with her body clenching tightly around him nearly his undoing. He wanted this to last, wanted to explore every nuance and detail of it, but he was already overwhelmed with the need for release. Her body was still ultra sensitive from her previous orgasm, responding to his every movement. He slipped his hand between them to coax her towards another peak. She writhed beneath him, short moans punctuating every snap of his hips. Just when he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, her breath hitched and her nails dug into his back.

She screamed, clamping around him like a vice. He shuddered in bliss and let himself go, thrusting deeper and deeper until their bodies began to meld, fused together in pleasure that increased and multiplied. The throbbing intensity of her release combined with the sharp stab of his own to make them both lose themselves in the maelstrom of carnal delight. They merged until they were one entity, pulsing with blazing light and then exploded into a thousand little pieces.

The tiny flecks of electricity slowly drew together and resumed their original forms, Fred and Helena, still glowing with aftershocks of pleasure.

 

* * *

 

 

Neither of them knew exactly how long they stayed in the Room of Requirement. They didn't need to eat or rest, and Fred found that his refractory period as a ghost was almost laughably short. Over and over again they indulged in each other. They learned the intricacies of sex as ghosts, how far they could push the boundaries of what was physically possible and what the reactions of their bodies would be. At one point, Helena had Fred stretched out across the bed so she could study every inch of his body from top to bottom. She ended her inspection with a thorough perusal of his cock which led to another bout of vigorous sex.

When they finally emerged, Helena's first stop was to the Headmistresses office to request a private room for them. Minerva was confused at first, until Fred showed himself and the reason behind its necessity was revealed. After recovering from her initial shock, Minerva found a suitable room for them and then helped Fred make arrangements to see his family again. He'd decided it was time. The months since his death had allowed everyone the chance to make their peace with what had happened. Now, they needed to face the rest.

Helena supported Fred every step of the way. She had no family left, but she knew how important it would have been to her if she could have met with her mother again after her death. They decided to have Weasleys meet in the Room of Requirement, to afford everyone privacy as well as comfort. The closer it got, the more Fred's trepidation grew. What if they had a hard time accepting it? What if knowing he was a ghost hurt them more than thinking he was beyond the Veil forever?

“If the atmosphere gets too tense, you can always break it with one of those ridiculous jokes you are so fond of,” Helena offered.

“Over my dead body,” Fred gasped.

Helena looked at him askance. “Ah, you  _ are _ dead.”

“Exactly!” Fred grinned mischievously. “It's a great idea!”

“You cad.” She sent a shock along his shoulder blades, making him jump a little and laugh.

“It's what you love about me.”

“Indeed it is.”

“And I bet I'll be able to distract dad by showing him how we can manipulate electricity. He's fascinated with muggle electricity.”

“If we could get a hold of a light bulb, you could amaze them all by putting it in your mouth and lighting it up.”

“Then dad would spend the next few hours trying to plug a toaster into my belly button or something.”

“And no one can be depressed with a toaster plugged into their belly button,” Helena assured him with a smile. Fred slipped his hand into hers and squeezed lightly, overcome by a strong surge of gratitude for the woman beside him. He knew that they both could have gotten on fine apart from each other. But his afterlife would have been far darker, far more boring, and far less worthwhile, without her.

“You'll be with me?” he asked, leaning his forehead down to hers.

“Always,” she promised.

 

* * *

 

 

The cavalier was staring at them. If either of them noticed, they gave no sign. The spirit hiding inside it had become proficient at lurking just out of perception over the centuries. It hadn't wanted to be seen or heard for so long. Even now, it didn't want to be acknowledged in any way. It only wanted to see.

It saw Fred meet with his family, saw the tears and the laughter, the pain and the joy. It saw Helena being introduced to the Weasleys and accepted among their number. It saw the two ghosts twine their existences together, creating light and happiness where before there had only been despair. It saw the most unexpected love grow.

And for the first time in a millennium, it felt peace.

The pangs of guilt and regret that had plagued it during all its long afterlife finally began to fade. With them, what little of the spirit that remained tethered to the school began to fade as well. It happened slowly at first, because there was deep magic binding it to Hogwarts. Then, as time went on, more and more of the spirit dissipated into the abyss until nothing but an echo remained.

Helena turned, as if she'd heard the words aloud instead of in her heart.

_ I love you, daughter. _

“Everything alright, love?” Fred asked, silver brows drawn together in concern. Helena smiled at him and nodded. It was alright. Better than alright. And she somehow knew that it was going to stay that way for a very long time to come.


End file.
